


DJ Got Us Falling in Angst Again

by CatiDono



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Battle City Arc, Drunkenness, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, add whiskey and see what happens, joey is traumatized, kiss and make it better, necking in a gay club, seto is the definition of a touch starved gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 03:29:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14741207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatiDono/pseuds/CatiDono
Summary: Can you imagine the legal ramifications of having a participant in your card game tournament almost drown himself?? This is why Seto drinks.  Can you imagine BEING the tournament participant who almost drowned himself?? This is why Joey drinks.  It's when they both drink at the same time that things get complicated.





	DJ Got Us Falling in Angst Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [writerjesus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerjesus/gifts).



> Listen this is just like the Battle City tournament except that they're both old enough to legally drink and grope each other in clubs. Takes place literally directly after the Friends ‘Til the End duel, like, same day.

The glass of whiskey was not his first, but Seto was reasonably certain it was less than his fourth.  He had started slowly, three hours ago, after getting home from a nightmarish meeting with the insurance companies.  All of them. In the entire city. It had taken a lot of fast talking and several hundred thousand dollars worth of "strategic investments" in their companies to persuade them that the near death of a Battle City tournament participant was actually nothing more than a planned stunt that had gone awry.

Joey _fucking_ Wheeler.  Seto didn't even know how he'd gotten a duel disk in the first place; Seto had made sure he wouldn't be competing.  And then, of course, he had gotten… brainwashed, or whatever, and ended up at the bottom of the bay, because if there was one person in the entire goddamn city who would get roped into something like that, it was Wheeler.  Another glass of whiskey, definitely less than his fifth, vanished before Kaiba noticed.

There was nothing like being put in the hot seat by a bunch of ice cold businessmen to give Seto flashbacks to his shitty childhood and complete isolation.  The silence in the house was oppressive. He needed to get out, to do something. Possibly hurt someone. A not-sixth shot of whiskey was knocked back in quick order.

Seto slammed the glass down on the counter and fished his phone out of his pocket.  This was a mistake. He knew this was a mistake.

_Sober Seto is going to hate you._

Well, the joke was on Sober Seto; he hated himself anyway.  With the slow precision of the already inebriated, Seto tapped his screen, opening the correct application and painstakingly typing in the search function.

 _You're disappointing Mokuba_.

That thought gave him pause, finger hovering above the submit button.  It didn’t slow him down for long though, because again, disappointing Mokuba was nothing new.  Besides, Mokuba was always trying to make Seto be friends with that insufferable gang of do-gooders.  This was just… Seto’s own way of doing that. Or something. He tapped the screen.

There was a chance that Wheeler might have left his duel disk at home.  There was an even greater chance that Wheeler might be at home with the duel disk, after the day he'd had.  Seto had no idea what he would do if that was the case. But the screen flashed up the map of Domino City and then zeroed in to a point that was certainly not the Wheeler family residence.  In fact, it was a point conveniently close to Seto's house.

Without letting himself think too hard about it, Seto slipped somewhat unsteadily into his coat and swept out of the house.  It was less than a ten minute walk to the source of Wheeler's duel disk signal, and in no time at all he was standing outside of a building with almost no signage outside and the sound of techno music pumping from within.

 _This is a gay club_.

Seto was too drunk for the observation to bother him overmuch.  The bouncer was about to stop him, but suddenly backed away hastily and gave an awkward sort of half-nod, half-bow.  There were some perks to being a billionaire genius, it seemed.

Inside, the club was sweltering and painfully loud.  Seto immediately shed his coat, cutting the coat check line and dropping it into the clerk's hands along with a $20 bill.  Someone cursed at him, and Seto casually flipped them off. With the lights flashing and the press of humanity inside, it was hard to see much of anything.  Seto craned his neck, searching for the huge, unmistakable fluff of Wheeler's hair, but he couldn’t see it. Ridiculous. Bodies pressed against him, all gyrating to the music, and Seto let himself be swept away.  Without his trademark coat, in the uncertain lighting, he had as much anonymity as anyone else. No one was going to recognize him and shy away out of respect, fear, or plain old self preservation. Seto felt muscles that he hadn’t even known were tense relax.  None of these people cared who he was. They were here for the music and the dancing and the human interaction. Without protest, Seto let himself float through the crowd, pushed towards the inadequately sized dance floor. He glanced around, feeling like the room was moving faster than he was.  Nowhere was there any sign of… wait.

Seto planted his feet, stopping dead.  Three people danced into him and around him.  One of them copped a feel on Seto's ass as he went by, but Seto didn’t even acknowledge it.  His target was in sight. Joey was slumped against a wall, staring vacantly at the mass of bodies dancing in front of him.  A clear plastic cup, mostly empty, partially full of something amber, dangled in his hand, a twitch away from falling. His duel disk hung forlornly from his wrist.  Seto made a beeline for him.

"You!"  Kaiba had to shout to make himself heard over the noise.  No one was paying any attention to them; why would they? They were nobody.

Joey's head jerked up, and he blinked a few times.  No doubt he was having trouble processing who exactly was standing in front of him.  Seto felt a faint flutter of amusement, but it was drowned out by his frustration.

"Do you have any idea what you've put me through today?  Any. Idea." Seto stepped closer to Joey, using every centimeter of advantage that nature and his heeled boots gave him to loom over the shorter man.

Joey blinked again, then lifted his cup and peered into it.  "Kaiba? Am I imagining this? Did somebody roofie me?" He looked from the drink to Seto again.  "Hang on, do roofies cause hallucinations?"

"Shut.  Up." The alcohol in his system had worn away at Seto's boundaries until there was nothing left but raw nerves and emptiness.  He pressed into Joey's space, smacking the remains of his drink out of his hand. Neither of them saw it hit the floor. "How dare you almost die in my tournament."

"What the hell?"  Joey scowled up at Seto, the pink lighting glinting off his honey gold eyes and catching the shine of his lips as he licked them nervously.

"You weren't supposed to duel at all.  God knows how you ended up there." Seto slammed his palm against the wall next to Joey's head. To his credit, Joey didn’t flinch.

"Kaiba," Joey said, slowly and deliberately.   "If it is actually you, I have no idea why you’re here, and I would really appreciate it if you fucked off.  I almost killed my best friend today, and then I almost died, and I am not in the mood for your bullshit."

"Not in the mood?"  Seto slammed his other hand against the wall, bracketing Joey with his arms.  The space between them was intimate and overheated. "I had to get you airlifted to a hospital today, and then convince the city that it was all a stunt.  I had to be poked and prodded and questioned for five hours by fat old CEOs, and the whole time." Seto bent closer to Joey, and for some reason that Seto couldn’t comprehend, Joey didn’t try to slip away.  "The _whole time_ I was worrying about you for some godforsaken reason."  He could smell what Joey had been drinking; something cheap and strong.

"Do you have a point?"  Joey met Seto's gaze for a moment, until the air started to simmer between them and he glanced down at Seto's mouth instead.  "I came here to be distracted from the shit that happened to me, not reminded by you, ya prick."

"You want a distraction?"  Seto's voice was dangerously soft, but even if Joey couldn’t hear him over the music, he was staring at his mouth hard enough to read his lips.  "I'll give you a distraction."

"Bring it, fancy boy," Joey challenged, eyes flashing.  Those same eyes widened in shock as Seto jerkily pushed forward and slammed his mouth against Joey's.  It was not a pleasant kiss. It wasn't even a particularly competent kiss, what with the violence of the motion and the click of teeth against each other.  The important thing was that it _was_ a kiss, and when Seto pulled away a moment later, shocked at his own audacity, Joey let his head thump back against the wall and licked his lips in a way that was far from nervous.

"Well fuck.  I came out here looking for someone to take my mind off of today, but this is unexpected."

"I'm someone," Seto murmured.  "Really, I'm no one here, and so are you."

"Boy, you sure know how to sweet talk," Joey said sarcastically, but Seto didn't get a chance to respond because Joey was pressing up into him, bringing their mouths together in a kiss that was much more satisfying than the first one.

Joey's hands, far gentler than expected, came up to either side of Seto's ribs and rested there, unsure, a silent question of _Is this okay?_

Seto had no such questions to ask.  He brought one hand to the side of Joey's neck and buried the other in Joey's hair, deepening the kiss.  A detached part of Seto's mind was delighted to find that Joey's hair was exactly as soft and fluffy as it looked.

Joey's tongue slipped across Seto's mouth, and he parted his lips to let Joey in.  Then he bit down.

"Fhhk!"  In a move that could only have been learned brawling on the streets, Joey surged up and flipped their positions, slamming Seto back against the wall and breaking the kiss.  "Fuck," Joey said again, clearer. "And you call me a dog. Never took you for a biter."

Seto tilted his head, directing a whiskey-smug grin up at Joey.  Whatever was left of Sober Seto was still shrieking red alerts at him, but he was done with being careful tonight.

"Too rough for you, puppy?"  Seto murmured, still giving him a smirk.  "I thought all strays bit."

"What the fuck, Kaiba?"  Joey gripped Kaiba's lapels, and now he was rough, and it was exactly what Seto wanted.  "What's wrong with you?"

"I came here to feel something."  The words slipped out, aggressive enough to hide the vulnerability buried in them.  "What did you come here for?"

Joey stared wordlessly at him as the song faded out and new one started, bass throbbing in Seto's sternum.

"Why are you here?"  Seto demanded again, tightening his grip on Joey's hair.

"To live."  There was something horrifyingly fractured in Joey's gaze when he met Seto's eyes, something so raw that it jolted Seto halfway to sobriety.  "Down there in the water… everything was cold and quiet. I was numb. I'm here because I need the opposite."

Seto had no words.  Maybe if he'd been sober he would have, but then again if he'd been sober he would have already have fled from the emotionally charged situation.  As it was, he did the only thing he could think of. He kissed Joey again.

Joey was tense for a split second, but then he seemed to reach the same conclusion that Seto had when he first arrived: there was no one to see them, no one to judge them, no one to stop them.  Joey melted into Seto, pressing against his whole body, clutching at his shoulders like he was the only anchor Joey had left.

Seto broke the kiss to gasp for air, then gasped for an entirely different reason as Joey's mouth slipped down his jawline and pressed a kiss under his ear.  He tilted his head back on instinct, giving Joey an opportunity that would never be offered in any other situation, and Joey took full advantage. Teeth closed on the sensitive skin of his throat and Seto let out a noise that was almost a whimper.

"Fuck," he breathed into Joey's hair, eyes open and staring at nothing in particular.  One fist clenched in the soft strands, and his other hand dragged down the side of Joey's neck, nails scraping lines that would be red if they were in the light.  It was best that this was in the dark, though.

Joey's teeth slid down to the collar of his turtleneck and Seto flinched, yanking Joey's mouth away from his neck and back to his mouth.  They drew on each other, both frantic in their need to touch and feel. Joey's hands clawed at Seto's shoulders, and Seto let the music and sensations sweep away the last of his reservations.  His right hand refused to relinquish its hold on Joey's hair, but the left slipped under the edge of the ridiculous oversized tee-shirt Joey was always wearing and found skin, pulling Joey's body closer to his.  His fingers just barely dipped below the waistband of Joey's jeans, but the noise Joey made in response was highly encouraging, and Seto slid his hand lower.

Joey somehow pressed himself even closer to Seto, nipping at his lip, and Seto could feel him smiling.  He could almost hear Joey in his head, saying something mocking about being a puppy. Right now, Seto couldn’t bring himself to be annoyed.  He bit back, then dropped his mouth to Joey's neck. If Joey wanted sensation, Seto was more than happy to oblige.

"Shit," Joey gasped as Seto sucked none too gently at his neck.  "Fuck," he elaborated as Seto opened his jaws even wider and dug his teeth in.  "Kaiba..."

"Shut up," Seto growled, licking a stripe all the way from Joey's collarbone to his jaw.  The shiver Joey gave in response was exactly what Seto wanted. The beat shook them both as the song changed, and they instinctively started swaying together, somewhere between dancing and grinding.  The club was still packed, still sweltering, but in their corner there was only the two of them and the pulse of the music.

Seto didn’t know how long they were there, touching and existing together.  Long enough that the dance floor started to clear and the bouncer closed off the side room.  Long enough that they were both disheveled and panting. Long enough that Seto knew he was mostly sober and pretending not to be, and long enough that he suspected Joey was the same.

They breathed for a moment, Joey's head tucked into the crook of Seto's neck, Seto's chin pillowed in Joey's hair.  They each became aware of all the things they'd been forcibly ignoring at the exact same time, and they each reacted differently.  Joey seemed to wilt, to draw himself back together. Seto felt all of the tension he'd left at the bottom of the whiskey glass in his kitchen settle back onto his shoulders as he straightened up.

"Kaiba, what…"  Joey trailed off, eyes on Seto's neck.  Seto had a feeling he was going to need more than a turtleneck in the morning.  "What now?"

"Now we both go fucking home," Seto said roughly, pulling away.  He squashed the little voice in his head that wished they could stay here forever, hiding in the anonymous darkness.  And the one that said he should touch Joey's hair one more time.

"Seriously?"  Joey sounded lost instead of angry, and that somehow made it all much worse.  "You seriously want to just… what? Pretend this didn't happen?"

"I'm glad you understand.  You're smarter than you look, Wheeler."  Seto focused on readjusting his clothes so that he didn’t have to see the hurt in Joey's eyes.  He struggled to put the walls back up that he had so foolishly let down. Yep, as expected, Sober Seto did hate himself.  He was never drinking again.

"Okay."  Joey drew in a long, shaky breath that made Seto feel a little shaky himself.  "That's fine. I get it. This was a one-time thing. Wrong time wrong place." He raised a hand to his neck and seemed surprised at the sensitivity there.  He wouldn't raise his eyes to meet Kaiba's.

"What, were you expecting to find your life partner here?"  Seto asked cuttingly, because it was the only way he knew. For the first time, he almost wished it wasn't.

"I wasn't expecting to find you," Joey snapped, and there it was, their usual antagonistic equilibrium, teetering just out of reach.  Seto wanted to reach for it, to drag that familiar feeling back kicking and screaming. Then Joey's shoulders sagged again and the moment was gone.  "It doesn't matter. Thanks anyway. For saving me, I mean." For some reason, Seto didn't think he was talking about the helicopter trip earlier.

This was wrong.  This wasn't what Joey Wheeler was supposed to be like.  He was supposed to be abrasive, intolerable. Boundlessly energetic and idiotic.  Not broken. Seto stood there, unnerved, heart half-shielded but beating too furiously for him to possibly armor it back up, and wished he could pretend he was still drunk.  When he was drunk, his ego always seemed to be a much more manageable size.

"All right."  Joey seemed to take his silence as affirmation.  He took a step back, eyes fixed on the shadowy remains of the drink he'd abandoned hours ago.  "I don't have a great poker face so maybe it's better if we just. Don't see each other ever again?"  He glanced up, but his gaze only made it to the middle of Seto's chest before dropping again. "I won't tell Yugi or anything, if that's what you're worried about.  Probably wouldn't believe me anyway."

"Wheeler—" Seto stopped, changed what he had been about to say.  "Where are you going to go?"

"Fucking home."  Joey parroted, but even his sarcasm seemed beaten down.  "The long way, so I don't have to go by the water." He seemed to realize how concerning that statement was, weigh the option of trying to laugh it off, and decide he didn't have the energy for it.  "It was real. It was fun. It was real fucking fun." With that, Joey began to thread his way back through the remaining crowd towards the door, leaving Seto frozen in their corner.

_You can't leave him like this._

Joey was almost totally out of sight, and Seto still stood there, absurdly trying to analyze the source of his paralysis.  Out of the blue, he remembered an article he had once read that said that drunk people didn’t actually do things they wouldn't want sober; the just did things that they were too scared to do sober.

_Move your damn feet._

Seto's fingers twitched at his side, feeling cold without the heat of Joey's skin.  The walls he had tried to put back up were giving him claustrophobia.

_Move!_

Seto went from zero to running in half a heartbeat.  Twenty feet from the door he tripped over someone and absently cursed back at them as they called him a douchebag.  He did not dispute the title.

"Wheeler!"  He burst out onto the street, head frantically swiveling. It had gotten chilly as the clock crept closer to sunrise than midnight, but he didn't even consider going back for his coat.

"Wheeler!"  Picking a direction, Seto sprinted.  He got to an alley, looked left and right, sprinted on.

"Joey!"  He heard a muffled sob, loud in the relative silence of the mostly sleeping city.  Rounding the corner, he almost ran into Joey, who looked both surprised and terrified to see Seto suddenly upon him.  Joey's eyes were wide and washed out by the street lamps and tears, his skin a mess of purple-red marks that were mostly from Seto but partially from being chained to an anchor and plunged into the ocean.

"What the hell do you want?"  The words were strong, but the voice they were delivered in wavered, fragile.

"Don't."  Seto heaved a breath, tried to swallow the lump of pride he was choking on.  "Don't go. I live closer. No water to walk past. And it's late." With this level of eloquence, Seto almost could believe he was still drunk.

Joey just stared at him, not comprehending.

"Come home.  With me." Holy shit, Seto felt like he was having a stroke. Joey Wheeler was not someone he would ever invite into his house, or so he had thought.  But then again, he'd also thought Joey Wheeler was incapable of being as broken as Seto had seen. Incapable of touching as tenderly as he had.

"Don't fuck with me—"

"I'm not, dumbass."  In some inexplicable way, the expletive softened the air between them.  "Just come on. It's cold as shit and I left my coat inside."

"People will see us."

And there it was.  Seto closed his eyes, trying to control his breathing, trying to swallow the anxiety suddenly coursing through his system.  Seto Kaiba, the Ice King, untouchable, powerful, seen in a compromising situation with a third-rate duelist. God knows what it would do to the stocks.  Money aside, Seto wasn't sure he could endure the amount of teasing that would follow from people he knew, and those he didn't.

This was what he had wanted though.  Drunk Seto was Sober Seto without the inhibitions, and Drunk Seto had been relaxed and truly happy with someone who wasn't Mokuba for the first time since… ever.  The situation was a bitch, no two ways about it, but arguably less of a bitch than having his soul separated from his body, or being trapped in a virtual reality by money-grabbing tycoons.  Or having to watch two of the few people he interacted with on a regular basis duel to the death. Seto opened his eyes, pleasantly surprised that all of that processing had only taken a few seconds.

"Let them.  They can read all about it in the tabloids."  Heart pounding, Seto reached a hand out. Joey took it, hesitantly, like he couldn't believe it was real.

"You sure about this?"

"I'm offering you a bed, Wheeler, not an engagement ring."

"Anyone ever tell you you're an asshole?"  

But Joey didn’t let go of his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Everybody give a big ol' thanks to Evan cause this was gonna end very differently at first. Also it was gonna end at like 1500 words instead of 3700 words.....


End file.
